


Wrongdoing

by 27dragons



Series: Murderers and Thieves [3]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Arguing, Canon-Typical Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony fucked up. Tony fucked up <em>bad</em>, in a bunch of different ways, and no, actually, Bucky <i>can't</i> wait until they're back home to have it out with him, because Bucky is fucking <em>furious</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrongdoing

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a prompt fill for the Murderers and Thieves [drabbles and prompts collection](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1867764/chapters/4021158), but it got out of hand, so I decided it needed to be its own work. Prompts filled by this fic are:
> 
>   * [ylaris](http://ylaris.tumblr.com/): I'll love to read about a fight between Bucky and Tony and how could they solved the problem. I'll love it even more if Bucky tried not to get angry, afraid of losing to Winter soldier and Tony would be completely unafraid. Pleaaase.
>   * [ylaris](http://ylaris.tumblr.com/): ...I'll love to see some angst between them. Some fight and make up after... :)
>   * Anonymous: Tony/Bucky an idiot villan captures Tony, he tries to warn them this is a bad idea because it's really going to annoy how boyfriend. Bucky being all winter soldiery and Tony calming him down once he's been rescued and he is safe.
>   * Anonymous: ...I'd love to see some Winter Soldier. Maybe someone tries to hurt/kidnap Tony and WS comes out to kick ass and keep Tony safe. And maybe see the fallout. Like Bucky regrets losing control and hurting people (even the badies) but is glad Tony's safe.
>   * [ylaris](http://ylaris.tumblr.com/): I'll really love to read about how the avengers (Bucky most of all) will react to seeing an article of Tony as a playboy... like he is in a business trip and pictures of him making it look like he was "getting busy" with some woman...
>   * Anonymous said: ok so everybody knows about RDJ's ridiculous fashion choices right? I like to imagine that Tony also wears the weirdest clothes sometimes. I would love to read Bucky's/the team's reactions!
> 


* * *

**Now**

Bucky carried Tony up the quinjet ramp and set him gently in a chair at the back of the passenger space, near the medkit. Steve and Natasha followed, but Tony only had eyes for Bucky. He sat and watched, uncharacteristically compliant and quiet, as Bucky knelt to begin tending his injuries with trembling hands.

Natasha leaned past Bucky to lay a gentle hand on Tony's shoulder. Tony lifted his own hand, no less shaky than Bucky's, and laid it over Natasha's, but he didn't look at her. After a moment, she withdrew and squeezed Bucky's shoulder gently. "We'll be in the air in five," she promised, and was gone, not waiting for a reply.

Bucky carefully cleaned and wrapped Tony's wrists and ankles, raw and bleeding from the restraints. There was a fading bruise encircling Tony's upper arm that made him flinch when Bucky touched it, but there wasn't much that could be done to help that. The fresh gash on Tony's forehead had mostly stopped bleeding, but Bucky put a butterfly bandage on it anyway. Tony winced in pain when Bucky shone a penlight into his eyes, and his drug-blown pupils reacted sluggishly, but he didn't seem concussed. Bucky didn't think there was anything they could do about the drugs just yet.

He cupped his hands around Tony's face, holding Tony's gaze and keeping his expression as neutral as he could. "Anything else I should know about?"

Tony shook his head, winced again, and said, "Just this headache. They seemed to think the drugs would work better than torture, mostly. If it goes like the last few doses, the downswing'll last a few hours." He sounded lucid, though tired and subdued and almost wholly unlike Tony.

Silently, Steve passed over some painkillers and a bottle of water. Tony swallowed the pills and half the water while Bucky waited, still kneeling on the floor in front of Tony, his hands resting lightly on Tony's thighs.

"Thanks," Tony said, sparing Steve only the briefest of glances.

"You're okay," Bucky whispered, not sure he could believe it.

Tony nodded. "More or less."

"Good. That's good. Okay." Bucky drew a long, shuddering breath, trying to release the terror he'd been feeling for most of the last week. "Good," he said again. "Hey, Steve?"

"Yeah, Buck?"

Bucky kept his eyes on Tony. "Go sit copilot and give us some space for a bit, wouldja?"

Steve hesitated. "You sure you don't want to wait until--"

"I'm sure," Bucky said.

"All right," Steve said uncertainly, and moved away.

Tony was looking down at his lap now, like he was afraid of what was coming next. Bucky found Tony's hands and clasped them gently. "I love you, Tony."

Tony swallowed and nodded, but didn't speak, didn't look up.

"I'm sorry it took us so long to find you," Bucky said. "I hope you didn't think, just because--"

"I knew you were coming," Tony said immediately, and that was a relief. "It wasn't even a whole week, and they didn't... It wasn't that... I'm okay. I'll be fine."

"Yeah," Bucky sighed. "And that's good." His lips pressed thin. "Because I am fucking _furious_ with you."

Tony flinched as if half-expecting a blow, and that only made Bucky angrier.

"You fucked up, Tony. You fucked up _bad_."

"I know."

"And I ain't gonna apologize for getting mad at you."

Tony shook his head. "Wouldn't expect you to."

Bucky blew out a breath slowly, tightened his hold on Tony's hands a little. "Though apparently shouting at you wasn't the best move, and I guess I owe you an apology for that."

***

**Eight Days Ago**

"What the hell are you doing, Tony?"

Oops. Busted. Totally busted. He should've known it was coming. Maybe he could bluff and bluster his way through it. Tony looked up with a wide smile, carefully not grimacing at how fake it felt. "Come have a drink with me, Buck!"

Bucky's eyes narrowed. "Thought you were off the sauce."

Tony shrugged. "One drink is not a relapse."

"It is, actually." Bucky leaned in close to Tony, sniffed, and eyed him suspiciously. "And I'm pretty sure you've had more than one."

"What do you know about it? Didn't think you had AA back in the Dark Ages."

Bucky sneered. "Maybe not, but we had fuckin' _drunks_. You think I don't know what 'just one' means to a goddamn drunk? Precisely fuckin' _nothing_!"

Okay, bluff and bluster wasn't going to work. Tony leaned back into the couch with every bit of the exhaustion and pain he was feeling. "Yeah, well. It's been a hell of a week, Buck. I just… I needed something to…" People had died, civilians, _innocents_ , because he hadn't been fast enough, hadn't been smart enough. He desperately wanted to stop having to remember it, wanted to stop thinking about what he could've done different, what he _should_ have done differently. He couldn't quite remember what he'd hoped the alcohol would do, though, because it fucked up his judgment but had never actually been able to stop him from thinking.

God, he'd pay _millions_ to be able to fucking _stop thinking_. Stop thinking about the young man who'd looked up into Tony's face as he fell. Tony realizing he wouldn't be able to reach him in time. Realizing that the last thing the man would see was an emotionless mask. There had been a ring in a box in the man's jacket pocket, and Tony wanted to _fucking stop thinking about it_.

There was a glass in his hand. He lifted it to his lips, only to have it yanked out of his grasp, the whiskey sloshing everywhere.

"Goddammit, Tony, just fucking _stop_!"

Shit, Bucky was angry. Bucky was _really_ angry. Tony wasn't sure he'd ever seen Bucky quite this angry before. Not at him.

Tony knew. He _knew_ what he should do. He should apologize. Should beg forgiveness. Should promise to start over again. Should pour the rest of the bottle down the drain.

Should ask Bucky to _help him_.

Tony was not so drunk that he couldn't hear the voice in his head that was telling him what he _should_ do.

He _was_ drunk enough to push that voice aside, though. Drunk enough to feel Bucky's anger as an attack rather than concern. Drunk enough to retaliate in kind.

"Fuck _you_ ," he snapped. "Who the fuck do you think you are, my mother? I will drink if I _want_ to fucking drink!"

He lurched up off the couch, snatched up the bottle by its neck, and stamped away, refusing to look back.

***

**Now**

"No," Tony said quietly, "no, I completely deserved to be yelled at. You've got every, _every_ right to rip into me for diving into the bottle--"

"I'm not mad about that any more, Tony," Bucky interrupted. "I'm mad because you fucking _ran away_ from me and then--."

A spark of defensive irritation lit Tony's eyes, and after the drug-blank haze, Bucky was almost glad to see it. "I didn't run away," he said. "That trip had been scheduled for--"

"Bullshit," Bucky growled. "You bumped up the schedule so you could leave early, and--"

"That was _completely_ \--"

"-- _and_ you didn't even call when you landed," Bucky rode over him. "You've always called, Tony. _Always_. So yeah, I think you fucking ran away to sulk like a goddamn brat."

***

**Seven Days Ago**

Sam leaned against the door of the gym. He was getting pretty good at figuring out the others' tells. When Steve was troubled, he usually went at the heavy bags. Clint hid in the vents, and Tony hid in his workshop. Bruce got creative in the kitchen. Bucky seemed to prefer lifting weights.

From the amount of weight set, Sam was pretty sure Bucky was only really using his human arm, keeping the metal one up only for balance.

Sam watched through three sets of twenty, then shrugged and walked the rest of the way in. "You going to be done any time today?"

"Probably," Bucky said. "Was just waiting to see how long you were gonna stand in that door."

Sam grinned. "Super hearing," he said. "Always forget about that."

"I'd dump it if I could," Bucky said, grunting as he started another set. "You know how many people in this damn building snore?"

"No, and neither do you," Sam retorted. He sat on the leg press machine but made no pretense of wanting to use it. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

"Nothing's up," Bucky said. "Just working out."

"Man, you are so full of bullshit I'm gonna take you out to my mama's and let her spread you on the garden."

Bucky snorted at that but didn't respond. He just kept lifting.

"You don't usually get so cranky when Tony goes on a trip," Sam observed. "Something happened."

Bucky slanted a glare at him, and Sam knew he was right. Bucky sighed and actually engaged the metal arm to heft the bar back into its cradle. He didn't sit up.

Sam waited.

"He fell off the wagon," Bucky told the ceiling.

"Shit," Sam said.

"Yeah."

"How bad?"

"Not sure. He was still… Wasn't sloppy drunk, when I caught him. Walking and talking. Don't know how much that means, though."

"Not much," Sam agreed. "Especially not for someone like Tony, who's been a high-functioning alcoholic for half his life. What'd you do?"

Bucky paused, then shrugged a little. "Took the glass away. Yelled at him, told him to stop. He stormed off." Bucky threw his human arm over his eyes, but Sam could still see the ripple of his throat when he swallowed hard. "And now he's gone off on his fucking trip, and he hasn't called or texted or…" Bucky let out a laugh that sounded like half a sob. "What did I do wrong, Sam?"

"Oh, stop that," Sam said, because Bucky mostly didn't respond to gentle sympathy. "Tony's a big boy, he made his own damn stupid decision to drink. That's not on you. And then he ran away because he was scared of facing up to it, and that's not on you, either."

"But--"

"I'm not saying you couldn't have handled it better," Sam continued. "But I can help you with that. Lots of veterans come home and fall into a bottle, and lots come home to find their partners fell into one while they were gone. I've got some stuff you can read, maybe get you into an Al-Anon meeting."

"Yeah, okay," Bucky said, but he didn't put his arm down. He was still breathing just a little too carefully, breath hitching at the end of each draw.

Sam waited.

"What if he doesn't come home?" Bucky whispered finally.

Sam leaned over and smacked Bucky's leg. "Don't be dense," he said. "The boy loves you. Loves this team. He'll come home."

Bucky swallowed hard again. "But--"

"Tony is damn stupid sometimes, but he ain't dumb," Sam said. "He'll come home."

***

**Now**

"And y'know, I was just gonna let that run its course," Bucky continued, "because I ain't dumb enough to get into pots-and-kettles with you about it. But then you just _had_ to go pushing my goddamn buttons, didn't you? Couldn't take responsibility for your own fuckups, had to punish _me_ instead."

Tony actually looked confused, and his lack of understanding made Bucky so furious he could actually feel the Winter Soldier coming up to press behind his eyes, offering to smooth everything away.

No. No. Fucking _no_. He wasn't going to smooth this one over. The drinking and the hiding, Bucky could forgive, but for this, for _this_ , Tony could goddamn well face up to Bucky's anger and take his licks like a damn adult. So Bucky pushed the Winter Soldier back, set his jaw, and glared straight back into Tony's face. "You _let_ that bitch kiss you."

Tony's eyes widened, then slid sideways, guiltily.

***

**Six Days Ago**

"--to stop all this moping," Sam was saying.

Natasha looked up from her book as Sam, Bucky, and Steve came into the common room. Steve flopped into his usual spot on the couch and Sam headed into the kitchen, presumably for snacks.

Bucky started to head for the couch he and Tony usually staked out for themselves, hesitated, and then changed course, picking a spot next to Steve instead. Which, Natasha suspected, meant that he and Tony hadn't made up yet. Another day or two and she would call Tony herself, but she was still holding out hope that they'd work it out between them.

She tucked her bookmark into the book. "Bit early in the day for a movie, isn't it?"

"Are we in your way?" Steve asked politely. "We can find another spot--"

"It's the common room, Steve," Natasha pointed out. "If I wanted peace and quiet, I'd be in my room. So what are we watching?"

Sam came in with a plate of cookies and a bowl of chips. "Mister Mopeyface here needs cheering up," he said, "because he's missing his main squeeze. So I thought, Tony's in LA, right?"

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Fashion show?"

Sam pointed at her, grinning wide. "Fashion show." Steve laughed and grabbed a handful of cookies.

"What the fuck is 'fashion show'?" demanded Bucky.

"Dude," Sam laughed. " _Dude_. Your boy, when he is in LA, wears..." He paused, apparently paralyzed by the weighty task of choosing an appropriate adjective.

"Ugly," Steve supplied. "The only word for it is ugly."

"Ugly would be something simple, like mixed plaids," Natasha said, suppressing her own smile. "Tony's LA wardrobe is _eclectic_."

"And _ugly_ ," Steve said gleefully.

"Man's got a point," Sam said, taking a handful of chips and settling into the couch. "Let's see what horrible choices he's made today! JARVIS, can you call up the fashion show for yesterday?"

"You've got a whole recording program with JARVIS for this?" Bucky said dubiously.

"Oh yes," Sam said. "Though before I moved in here, I had a cousin who collected these dumb pictures on the internet, so it's not like this is a _new_ hobby or anything."

"Why the hell would someone who doesn't even know him care about--" Bucky broke off, staring in amazement at the pictures JARVIS had displayed for them, culled from various internet and news sources, of Tony waving to the cameras. "What the fuck is that?"

Sam burst into hysterical laughter.

"I _told_ you!" crowed Steve. "I don't know what it is about California that melts his brain, but the clothes he wears there are _terrible_."

"Who even," gasped Sam, "who even thinks _owning_ something like that is a good idea?"

"I'm not sure what that's supposed to be on his belt buckle," Bucky admitted, tipping his head this way and that to try to figure it out, a reluctant smile beginning to tug at his lips.

Natasha was well acquainted with Tony's California wardrobe from her stint as Natalie Rushman. It was hard to stand out in a city where aesthetically pleasing people were a disposable commodity. Tony knew _exactly_ how ridiculous he looked, and he reveled in every shriek of outrage and confusion. Natasha took her enjoyment instead from watching the boys' reactions. Sam was pretending terror and hiding behind his hands; Bucky was almost hysterical in his bewilderment; and Steve was outright mocking like the sarcastic jerk he could be when he was in a good mood.

"Okay, JARV, let's see today!"

"Jesus, he went out in public like that?"

"Is that even a _color_? I mean, did someone invent a new color just for--"

"Forget the color, what the hell is up with those shoes?"

"Oh, god, I know! JARVIS, come on, you have to have one shot with the full outfit so we can appreciate--"

Bucky's face changed the fastest, from laughing disbelief to hurt. Almost as fast, Steve's eyes widened in surprise, and then narrowed sternly. The smile fell away from Sam's features, and he tipped his head in confusion. "Now," Sam said softly, "now he really didn't strike me as that sort."

Mentally cringing with suspicion, Natasha turned to look, and yes, there it was, a short spread of pictures: Tony sitting at a cafe, chatting with a young woman; Tony jumping up from his seat as the woman appeared to fall; and then -- the woman's arms twined around Tony's neck as they kissed. A final, damning picture showed him walking with the woman, her hand curled possessively around his elbow.

"It," Steve tried, "it was probably just... Those LA folks, Buck, they take all kinds of liberties. I'm sure he didn't--"

"Don't," Bucky ground out.

Natasha frowned at the display. Something wasn't right.

"No, Steve's right," Sam put in. "Remember when we went out there for that one publicity piece? Some of those girls, man, they were _ruthless_."

"Ruthless," Natasha murmured. "Yes. JARVIS, find me some video footage of this."

"Nat," Steve protested, "come on, it's bad enough like this."

Natasha shook her head. "Tony doesn't kiss like that."

"What?"

Natasha pointed at the picture. "His posture's all wrong."

Bucky snorted, his jaw working as he glanced at the picture and then angrily looked away again. "She's a lot shorter than me, even with those heels, it's probably--"

"No. You're not the only person I've seen him kiss, and something's wrong here. JARVIS?"

"Yes, Agent Romanov, I believe I have found something." The video was of poor quality, apparently taken by a tourist rather than the lurking paparazzi, and there was no sound, but Natasha didn't want sound, anyway, she wanted to watch Tony move.

The woman was already talking to Tony as the video started, he was chatting normally enough in what Natasha easily recognized as his "public persona". He signed an autograph, flirting a little but no more than usual. When the woman turned to go, she stumbled. It looked fake to Natasha's careful eyes, but Tony, apparently fooled, jumped up to catch her. The woman looked flustered and apologetic, and the image was grainy, but Natasha was fairly certain that was fake, too. And then the woman wrapped her arms around Tony's neck and kissed him.

He could've stopped it, Natasha knew. Tony had plenty of practice avoiding overenthusiastic fans. So he probably deserved whatever he was going to get in retaliation for Bucky's swift hiss of pain and anger. She wondered if that was deliberate, even, on Tony's part -- if he was trying to draw Bucky's ire the way a neglected child might misbehave to force his parent to pay attention to him.

But she _knew_ Tony, and she didn't believe Tony would take it any further than that. She watched as he hesitated, trying to decide what to do, but he wasn't kissing her back. Bucky made a soft, aching sound, but Natasha was watching the video too closely to explain it to him. There, and _now_ Tony was kissing her back, but Natasha had seen Tony kissing plenty of people, and his posture was _completely_ wrong. Too... too _still_. The woman pulled away and said something to him, looking genuinely anticipatory, and took Tony's arm to lead him away. Tony followed, docile. _Tony_. _Docile_. 

The others hadn't gotten it, though, she realized when she looked back at them. Sam was tight-lipped and angry, and Bucky was hunched over, his face in his hands. Steve's hand was on Bucky's bowed back. "Buck," Steve said softly, "I'm... If he... Maybe it wasn't--"

Natasha sighed. "He wasn't," she said. Bucky tipped his head, peering through his fingers at her suspiciously.

"JARVIS," she said, "all the footage you can find of the incident, especially anything with that woman's face -- send it to the console in my quarters, now. I have some research to do."

"Nat?"

Natasha stood up and set her book on the table. "Steve, you need to call Pepper. I'm pretty sure Tony's been drugged and kidnapped."

***

**Now**

"You _knew_ those paparazzi were watching," Bucky pressed, snarling. "You _knew_ that'd make the rounds. You _knew_ I'd see it, and you _know_ what I... how I am. You were _trying_ to make me jealous, you bastard."

Tony's mouth twisted. "No, it wasn't... Well, maybe a little," he admitted. He snuck a glance at Bucky, looked down again. "I mean, I didn't _plan_ it. It just happened, but I think... I guess I was hoping if you saw it then you would call, and then I wouldn't have to be the one to call first." He grimaced. "It sounds stupid and childish when I say it out loud."

"That's because it _is_ stupid and childish," Bucky snapped, not giving an inch. "And look where it got you!"

***

**Five Days Ago**

Tony woke with a start. Immediately, his head started pounding, and he squeezed his eyes shut again, tightly. He had never, _ever_ had a hangover this bad. This was _not_ a hangover sort of headache. This was--

His hands were tied at his sides.

His feet were tied, too.

God. Fucking. Dammit.

Tony forced his eyes open again, though they immediately started watering, and tried to take stock of the situation. He was tied to a chair, in what appeared to be a storage room. No windows. Going by the few labeled boxes and the smell of sweat and alcohol, he thought it probably belonged to a club or a bar. The headache got even worse.

Tony sighed and flexed the muscles of his forearms and calves, summoning the armor he'd brought with him. It would arrive in a few moments, and then he'd be free.

What the fuck had they knocked him out with? It hurt so badly he was beginning to see white spots in front of his eyes.

For that matter, _how_ had they knocked him out? It was hard to think, with the remnant of the drug in his system, but... he remembered sitting at the cafe. The girl who'd wanted an autograph, and then she'd fallen, and... She'd kissed him, and then... nothing.

She'd _kissed_ him. It had been in her fucking _lipstick_.

Well. He'd wanted to stop thinking, hadn't he? It wasn't quite all he had hoped it would be, though.

Tony cursed.

The door opened, and the woman came in, two big guys at her back. "Good morning, Mr. Stark," she said cheerfully. "I trust you slept well."

"Lady," Tony sighed, "you have made _such_ a big mistake. My armor is--"

She made a tutting sound and held up a device. "I'm afraid your signal did not go through, Mr. Stark," she said.

Tony narrowed his eyes at the device. Microburst transmission disruptor. He hoped the club didn't offer free wifi, because no signals were getting through that. So. No armor. "Fine, you've got me for a few hours, then, until my team gets here. You've heard of the team, right? The Avengers? Including my boyfriend, the Winter Soldier? Let me go now and I'll see if I can talk him out of killing you just out of spite. No promises, though, because he can be pretty--"

The woman gestured, and the guy on her left came forward and wrapped a meaty fist around Tony's arm, squeezing hard enough to make the bones creak. He tipped Tony back and then sideways until the chair was resting all on one leg. If he let go, Tony's head would hit the floor. Probably quite hard, and the headache was already epic.

Tony clenched his teeth and forced himself to shut up, and the goon put Tony back down with an ungentle _thump_.

Natasha could probably get out of this situation without any trouble, Tony thought irritably.

"All we want, Mr. Stark," the woman said coolly, "is the passcode for project X5-712."

"I don't know what that is."

"Well, of course you're going to say that now. We'll see what you've got to say after you've had some time to think it over." She turned on her heel without waiting for an answer and left, the goons trailing behind her. He heard the sound of a deadbolt sliding home after the door shut, and the much fainter click of a padlock.

Tony hadn't lied. He honestly had no idea what project X5-712 was. At least they hadn't started in on the torture right away.

He tugged at the ropes, already knowing it was futile, and hoped the others would figure out what had happened and come get him before they got to the torture. He really hated that part.

***

**Now**

"I don't think I quite deserved _that_ ," Tony mumbled.

"Dammit, Tony, don't think you're going to get out of this like that. I'm still mad. I think I'm fucking _entitled_ to be mad at you right now."

Tony flinched again. "You're right," he said. "You are. I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry for all of it. I was being stupid and selfish and self-centered and a complete asshole. I fucked up, I absolutely fucked up, Bucky. I'm so sorry." His eyes searched Bucky's face as he spoke, and his expression was sincere and shamed.

Bucky drank it in, reveled in it, because Tony absolutely deserved to wallow in suffering for a while, because Bucky had been hurt and angry and afraid for a _week_. But then he saw the fear in Tony's eyes, and Bucky's more natural feeling of protectiveness began to return to the fore, forcing the anger to recede somewhat. He still wanted Tony to be sorry, but he couldn't stand for Tony to be frightened, not because of him.

Bucky rubbed Tony's knuckles against his cheek. "I can _handle_ you fucking up, Tony. I really can. Shit happens. I'm gonna get mad and then I'm gonna get over it. And then I swear I will do whatever I can to help you, Tony, so it doesn't happen again.

"But I need you to promise me something, right here and now. As long as we're together, as long as you are _mine_ , I need you to swear you won't do that one to me again. I'm..." Bucky closed his eyes and sighed. "I'm a jealous bastard, Tony. I know it ain't pretty. I try to keep it bottled up, but..."

Tony moved hesitantly, tugging a hand free from Bucky's grip and wrapping it around the back of Bucky's neck. "It's kinda hot when you get all caveman possessive, actually," he said, the barest ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

Bucky's stomach twisted into knots. "Might not think so if you'd seen what I did to that bitch when we caught up."

***

**Two Hours Ago**

"Here," Natasha said, nodding at a shabby door.

"You're sure?" Steve said, hefting the shield.

Natasha gave him an unimpressed glare, which Steve took to mean she wasn't even going to answer. He let it slide; she was already pretty upset with herself for having taken so long to track them down.

"Okay. Buck?"

Bucky had a gun in his left hand and a long-bladed knife in his right. "Stop fucking around and kick the door down."

Steve did, and they charged in.

Four big guys swarmed out of the shadows. "Got this," Steve snapped. "Find Tony!"

"Bounce," Natasha said, and Steve punched the nearest mook out of the way before bracing his shield so Natasha could use it to launch herself up into the open-plan ceiling.

Bucky didn't say anything, but he didn't kill any of the guys Steve was fighting, either, which wasn't much like him. It wasn't until Steve had gotten two of them knocked out that he realized Bucky had zeroed in on the woman.

He hadn't shot her and she was shouting with what sounded like pain, which meant she was still alive. That was a little surprising until Steve got a chance to look closer and realized that Bucky had thrown his knife into her knee to keep her from running and now had her scruffed up against the wall, her feet dangling six inches from the floor. Steve grimaced; Bucky was taking this _very_ personally, and he'd been a bit of a vengeful asshole _before_ Hydra had messed with his brain.

He ought to at least tell Bucky to kill her cleanly, despite the fact that she had kidnapped and possibly tortured Bucky's lover and Steve's friend. It sure was too bad this last muscle-bound lunk was occupying so much of Steve's attention, or he certainly would've said something to Bucky about that, probably.

"Found it, Cap!" Natasha called, her voice echoing from down a hallway. "Give me thirty to pick the lock."

Steve finished off the goon. "Wrap it up, Buck."

Bucky didn't even look back over his shoulder at Steve, he just snarled. The woman flailed in his grasp and screamed, and Steve was glad that Bucky's body was blocking most of Steve's view of her.

"Tony'll need you once Nat's got that door open," Steve said mildly.

Bucky growled again, but the woman let out one last shriek and went limp. Bucky dropped her to the floor and used the tail of her shirt to wipe the blood from his hands.

***

**Now**

"There's only so much sympathy you're going to convince me to feel for someone who drugged me repeatedly and made threats against my person while I was tied to a chair," Tony pointed out.

Now it was Bucky who couldn't meet Tony's eyes. "Could've just killed her straight out," he muttered. "...Didn't."

"So there's some room for improvement," Tony said. "Didn't you just get through telling me that shit happens and we'll get through it?" He rubbed his thumb against Bucky's neck and leaned further to rest his forehead against Bucky's. "I'm sorry, and I promise not to deliberately push at your jealousy issues any more," he said seriously, and then that faint smile was back. "We'll maybe work on some other ways for us to satisfy your inner caveman."

Bucky huffed out a laugh, the tight sensation in his stomach easing. "You still owe me," he said.

Tony nodded immediately. "In so many ways," he agreed. "I'll... I'll try harder, Buck. I promise."

Anger melting and Tony finally safe, Bucky was beginning to feel the effects of more than a week's worth of anger and frustration and fear. He settled more comfortably on the floor and looped his arms around Tony's waist. He dropped his head into Tony's lap. "Wake me up when we get home," he mumbled, sighing at the feel of Tony finger-combing his hair. They'd work it out.

**Author's Note:**

> * I haven't made much of a point previously of Tony's drinking in the M&T universe, but as it comes into play here: I do conflate MCU-Tony with 616-Tony just a bit. MCU-Tony drinks a fair amount but only seems to have true alcoholic tendencies in _Iron Man 2_ (when he's also engaging in a lot of other self-destructive behavior because he thinks he's dying). On the other hand, alcoholism is a well-established facet of 616-Tony's character, and I think the struggle adds an interesting depth to the character.
> 
> * In the "Eight Days Ago" section, Tony taunts Bucky with not having any prior knowledge of AA. Before someone corrects me, let me say that I'm aware that AA was started in the 1930s and therefore did actually exist in Bucky's pre-war days, though to be fair it probably wasn't very widespread or well-known enough for Bucky to have encountered it. Nevertheless, that mistake was just Tony trying to deflect, and not me failing to do my research.
> 
> * Seriously, please, if someone you love or live with is an alcoholic (or an addict of any kind) look up Al-Anon or a local equivalent. You cannot help someone who does not want to be helped -- but Al-Anon can and will help you find ways of coping with it. _Your health, both physical and emotional, is just as important as theirs. Please get help if you are in this situation._


End file.
